


All Was Well

by florascerbic



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bisexual Female Character, Cunnilingus, F/F, Femslash, Fingering, First Time, Fluid Sexuality, Hurt/Comfort, Pansexual Character, Relationship Advice, Sexuality, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-19
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-13 20:08:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3394751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/florascerbic/pseuds/florascerbic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few years after the war, Hermione is still caught up in the past. Will she be able to move on and find happiness?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bothers and Breakfast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a note--this fic is tagged both bisexual and pansexual and yes I realize there is a difference and that some people disagree on the uses of each but I am of the opinion that people searching the tags for either might enjoy this fic so I tagged it with both.

          All was well. Hermione set down her quill, perusing the page. Though it had been several years since she had had to put her thoughts on paper for a class, she still wrote occasionally, finding it quite therapeutic. This particular piece was entitled “Nineteen Years Later” and was intended as an epilogue to her school years. She sighed, distantly, staring at the page.

          Initially she had set out writing it in the hopes of laying out everything she hoped would happen. Nineteen years after the fall of Voldemort was a long time, she reasoned. That’s enough time for all to be well. However, as she read through her words, scrawled down so recently that the ink was still wet, she had a realization. She had indeed written about the future, but that future was not possible, or even desirable. Instead, it was nothing more than the future she felt she was supposed to want.

          Hermione had always been good at doing what was expected of her. More than that, in fact. Since she was little, even before she knew magic existed, Hermione had excelled at everything that required a brain. Even Lupin had said that she was the cleverest witch of her age that he’d met. It seemed like so long ago that he’d said that, long before…well, now wasn’t the time to think of that, was it? The time for expectations was gone, yet she was caught in a web of should’ve and could’ve that woke her up shaking late at night. It should be Ron comforting her at 3am; she should be caught up in thoughts of happy domesticity just like her parents. Hermione looked back through her writing. She had written herself as being married to Ron again, this time with two children named Rose and Hugo. The family probably had a nice little house in the suburbs and owned a family owl and everyone was very very happy. Hermione pursed her lips.

          Technically, she thought, it’s my fault that this can’t be the truth. I broke up with him. She sighed again, softer this time. Poor boy. He hadn’t really deserved her rejection, her broken promises. Things changed, she mused, and all was not well. Their first kiss was just before a battle, and they continued to cling to one another amidst the horrors of war. Trauma unites people, and Ron and Hermione had needed to create something in the midst of the destruction. After the war, she had thought that since he loved her and understood her experiences that he would in time grow to truly understand her. However, as they put themselves back together, reality became more and more clear. Ron still had the emotional range of a teaspoon, and Hermione craved understanding on a different level than she knew she would ever get from him. With the threat of imminent death no longer present, their relationship lapsed back into friendship, and Hermione withdrew into her thoughts. Ron, ever hopeful, doggedly brought her flowers every Wednesday. Hermione accepted them with thanks and warmth, and returned to her books. Eventually, in early April, she had gently but firmly explained that they needed to stop seeing each other. Now she was left with quill in hand, writing hollow futures.

          “Knock knock” a sleepy voice called out. Hermione jumped and turned around in her chair to see Luna standing in the doorway. She was still in her pjs, which consisted of an oversized gray t-shirt with The Quibbler scrawled across it paired with loose yellow shorts. She had one sock on and was rubbing her eyes blearily.

          “Morning” Hermione said, “you can come in.”

          “Just asking if you want eggs” said Luna. “It’s my day to start breakfast. Also, this room’s infested with Blue-winged Chicliplots and that would not be a good idea. What have you been doing in here to attract so many so early?”

          “Just writing a bit” Hermione said defensively.

          “Well, you should take a break” Luna replied kindly. “They’re clouding up everything in here.”

Hermione grinned and nodded. She followed Luna downstairs to the narrow kitchen of Grimmauld Place and opened the fridge. Ignoring the jar of eyeballs labeled Do NOT touch and the soggy leftovers, she grabbed the carton of eggs.

          “Toast too?” asked Luna.

          “Sure.” Luna slid two pieces of bread into their ancient toaster. The toaster wrinkled its knobbed face and spat out, in the hoarse voice of a smoker, “you’re out.”

          “Very true,” said Luna cheerfully, “when do you want to go grocery shopping today, ‘Mione?”

          “Eh, let’s go just after breakfast” she said. “I was thinking we could make portobello mushroom burgers for dinner.”

          “With radishes?”

          “Of course” Hermione grinned. Some things don’t change.

          “Your fucking toast is done” snapped the toaster. Luna paused in the midst of frying the eggs to spell the toast onto a couple of (mostly) clean plates. The eggs soon followed, and the pair sat down to eat.

          “You know, I was thinking we could go on a fieldtrip today.” Luna said to her eggs. Hermione raised an eyebrow. “Where would we be going exactly?”

          “I thought it would be a good idea to visit the house. See how it’s doing.”

          “The house? Your house? Isn’t it…”

          “Mostly destroyed, yes. No one’s lived there for years. But my father still owns the property.”

          “Why visit?”

          “I want to go on a picnic.”

          “But…” Hermione paused as Luna smiled serenely back at her. Perhaps there were reasons behind it, but most likely it was a whim, and when Luna got a whim there was often nothing Hermione could do but follow her. She had learned over the past few months of living with her that some things weren’t worth arguing about. She nodded. “Sure.”


	2. The Rook

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Luna end up at Luna's house for a morbid sort of picnic.

          Two hours later, Hermione and Luna apparated to a spot just by Luna’s mailbox. There in the distance, the ruins of a tall dark house shaped like a rook chess piece were silhouetted against the sky. Hermione shivered. There was something foreboding, yet oddly enticing, about entering a ruined house. Particularly one that belonged to such an odd, magical family. Luna winked at her and then began wandering in the direction of the house. Hermione shrugged and followed, her eyes trained on Luna’s delicate ankles poking out of her ankle boots. She seemed to still have only one sock. Hermione found herself marveling at the slim muscles of her legs moving as she walked. In fact, she was watching so intently that she almost bumped into Luna when she stopped suddenly.

          “Here we are!” said Luna. They both stood there for a moment, drinking in the sight. Since the explosion of the erumpet horn, the house had been steadily decaying, and a sickly pallor had overtaken the remains. Bits of stone were scattered about the ground, leading up to a giant hole through the right wall and roof of the house. “My dad’s been back to grab a few items, but mostly I think he’s just avoided it.” The girls walked together up the steps and ducked through the crumpled door opening. Luna went first, stepping carefully through the shambles and stopping every few feet to point out some detail she recognized. They walked through what appeared to be the remaining half of the living room, stepping over broken sentimentalities.

          “I rather miss Isolde” Luna said conversationally. “I really did love her.” Hermione froze for a moment, then continued walking as though unperturbed. Who was Isolde? _Her?_ Luna loved _her?_ Did Luna like girls? When had she had a lover? What kind of love was she talking about? “Isolde?” Hermione responded as casually as she could. “Who’s Isolde?”

          “Oh, my house.” Luna explained. Oh. Not a female lover by any means then. Hermione wondered for a moment at her own reactions then dismissed it. It wasn’t _her_ business anyway. Kind of. I mean, they _were_ close friends living together. It was a bit strange that Hermione didn’t know Luna’s romantic history. Or interests. Or desires. They had never, for instance, talked about boys. Did Luna even like boys? Hermione was still pondering as they reached the steps to the second floor. “I named my house Isolde after the first girl I ever thought was beautiful” Luna said as she began climbing the steps. “She had long dark hair and she had pierced here, here, and here.” Luna pointed to several places on herself. “My house was very beautiful too, so the name fit.”

          “I see.” Bursting with questions, she said, “what happened to her?”

          “The house? Well I thought that was obvious, you were there, the horn…”

          “No, no, the girl. What happened to the girl. The one you thought was beautiful.”

          “Oh, I don’t know. I was much younger at the time. I haven’t seen her in years. She tended to avoid me after I asked to kiss her.”

          “Oh. I…I’m sorry.” Hermione was struck for several moments this time. So maybe Luna did like girls. Interesting.

          “It’s all right, there were other people after that. I think all people are beautiful, so it wasn’t hard to find another one to kiss.”

          “Who was your first kiss then?”

          “Well, there was this boy named Sabian who kissed me on a dare, I think, so him.”

          “Was it nice?” Hermione asked searchingly.

          “It was strange. Very wet. But nice. Who was your first kiss?”

          “Mine was Viktor Krum. You know, the Quidditch player.”

          “Oh yeah, the Bulgarian seeker. I remember him looking at you like he wanted to be the book you were reading. He was funny.”

          “Mmm.”

          “And then you dated Ron, right? Do you miss him?” Luna asked simply, seemingly unaware of the emotional turmoil behind the subject.

          “I mean…no. Yes and no. I don’t wish we were still together, if that’s what you’re asking. I don’t really know what I want at this point.” Hermione looked away, into the distance through the hole in the house. The sky was gathering dark clouds far away, but they weren’t close yet.

          “I think you’ll find it, whatever it is.” Luna grinned, a stark contrast with the gloomy scenery. “You’re beautiful too, you know.” Hermione smiled back, oddly comforted. At least she was included in the ‘all people’ that Luna found beautiful. “Picnic time?” asked Luna. Hermione nodded. She glanced around and, determining that the stairs were the ideal place to sit, began to set up the food.


	3. The Gray Area

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione recalls advice from an old friend.

As Hermione unwrapped her sandwich and began chewing, her thoughts turned to a conversation she'd had a long time ago. The memory drifted up, a bubble of consciousness rushing to the surface and surprising her with its presence. She had been at the Burrow, standing outside on a cloudless, beautiful day: a brave day. She had had one of those conversations that one imagines over and over again, yet doesn't turn out like any of the scenarios you picture. It was with a woman who had taught her so much, and yet was now more distant than ever--Tonks.

Tonks had been performing one of her endlessly funny facial routines, leaving Hermione in stitches. Hermione, drunk on sunshine and feeling at ease, managed to sneak in questions about things that had been bothering her adolescent mind for ages.

"Can you turn into a guy, Tonks?" Hermione asked, gesturing to Tonks' latest transformations (she now resembled a bat).

"Sure!" Tonks grinned and winked as her jawline hardened and her eyebrows thickened. "How's this?"

Hermione laughed, gazing admiringly at Tonks' new face. "So...does everything change when you do that?" Tonks raised her eybrows and grabbed her crotch suggestively, then burst out laughing. "Everything!"

"Wait, so how do you know if you're really a boy or a girl?"

"I don't, really" said Tonks. "I could be whichever one I felt like. But this form feels most like home to me" she said, changing her face back to her usual self. "Gender is less important than most people think anyway. I mean, I'm still Tonks, no matter what my bits look like." Hermione nodded with understanding. Tonks could have a pig nose and elephant ears and still be Tonks.

"The thing is, my abilities as a Metamorphmagus are just part of me. Identity is flexible by nature, not just categorical--in fact, your identity can involve 'flexible'. It's like sexuality. There's no rule that says you can only ever love one person, so why would it make sense to only love one gender?" Hermione paused for a moment, drinking it in. She had never thought about it that way. "So who do you like then?"

"Depends on the day!" Tonks explained, "Sometimes its all boys, sometimes its all girls. Often just androgynous people--anyone somewhere in between. I like that gray area. And some days, I don't think I'll ever like anyone again!" She seemed completely at ease with her own changeability, and Hermione was fascinated.

"Were you always like that?"

"Probably. It took a long time to realize it though. It was also hard to realize that not everyone experiences love and lust the way I do. People often just don't get it." Tonks' forehead wrinkled for a moment as she reflected on her experiences. It seemed that she existed outside the narrow worlds that Hermione had thought everyone belonged to, just as Hermione herself existed between the muggle and wizarding worlds with her muggle parents. She realized, too, that a pure-blood witch or wizard would never quite understand her position. When you live in those nice pretty boxes that you're supposed to, it's easy to ignore the in-between space.

Hermione remembered spending a lot of time thinking about what Tonks had said. She would sit daydreaming in Professor Binn's class, wondering about the intricacies of gender and sexuality. She had watched her classmates flirt and fight and fall in love, but most of their relationships had been strictly heterosexual and painfully predictable. Was there an alternative? Could it be that she hadn't found love yet because she needed that alternative?

"Wotcher, Hermione." Luna grinned, startling her out of her reverie and sounding disturbingly like Tonks.

"Sorry, just...thinking" said Hermione.

"Well don't think too much, the dessert will go bad!" Luna offered her a mouthwatering chocolate-covered strawberry. Maybe it was about time to live in the moment.


	4. Higher

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hermione does things against her better judgement.

"Bollocks!" said Hermione as they were cleaning up, hurriedly dabbing a napkin at her skirt. She had just spilled some of the sauce from her lunch onto it and it was definitely going to stain. "What's the spell to get rid of this again Luna?"

 

Luna did not react. She was staring off into the distance through the hole in the house.

 

"Luna?" Hermione tried again. Still nothing. Luna was gazing intently at something. Suddenly, she pointed.

 

"I'm pretty certain that storm has Leaping Gyrozocks in it" she said distantly.

 

Hermione glanced over where she was pointed. Her eyes widened. "I'm pretty sure its more the lightning that we need to be worried about!" She exclaimed, "shouldn't we apparate back home Luna?"

 

"But I've never seen a Leaping Gyrozock" Luna explained, serene as ever. "My father told me about them though. He said they lived in storms and directed them towards stormy, troubled people. That's why it rains so often at funerals."

 

"So you think...wait, are you saying I'm troubled?" 

 

"Yes, particularly today, that's why I think there are Leaping Gyrozocks. Now the way to see them is that you have to wait for the storm to arrive and sit as still as you can while thinking stormy thoughts. Then they'll dance around you. But only if you're lucky."

 

"In the RAIN? In the middle of a LIGHTNING STORM? Two stories in the AIR?"

 

"Preferably on the roof."

 

Hermione stared at Luna, half distracted by her earlier comment--troubled? was it obvious?--half seriously doubting the existence of Leaping Gyrozocks. "So you want to go up there." She pointed to the shingles, trembling under the growing wind, and the groaning timbers of the roof.

 

"Yes."

 

"But...it's dangerous..." Hermione found herself worrying about Luna's safety more than her own. She knew an anti-lightning charm, sure, but the roof could collapse...they could fall off of it...the lightning might strike the roof around them...

 

"Excellent, Leaping Gyrozocks love danger." Really, there was no arguing with her. Luna set off without another word up the second flight of stares. She cast a quick  _Wingardium Leviosa_ on herself and levitated up from there to the roof. She clambered on, throwing broken shingles off like snowflakes. Hermione sighed, glanced at the storm, and followed. The girls climbed higher and higher to the top of the highest point of the roof. Luna perched like an owl just as it was starting to rain, blinking forcefully when the drops got in her eyes. Hermione joined her, sitting silently and anxiously. She cast the lightning charm soundlessly on both of them.

 

"Any second now." Luna tilted her head back as though wanting to drink the sky in. She spread her arms and opened her palms, her brow furrowed in concentration. Hermione remember the instruction about stormy thoughts. She tried to relax and open her mind to equally stormy thoughts, but all she could come up with was how worried she was that Luna was going to fall off. She certainly cared a lot about Luna's safety, even for a close friend. A very close friend. Some might say she cared too much, but Hermione had always been a worrier. But what if there was something more? What if she Liked Luna, not just in the friend way? _I'm too old for this_ thought Hermione.  _I thought I was done with these schoolgirl fantasies_. But as she sat there, staring at the girl whose blonde hair was being whipped into elf knots by the wind, Hermione became more and more tangled in the hair and the girl. Her profile was silhouetted against the darkened sky and she seemed in that moment more alive than anyone Hermione had ever seen. Luna had always been vivid, real, a stark contrast with everyone around her, and here that was even more pronounced. Hermione was breathless with the intensity of it all. She realized that while she had such trouble living in the moment, Luna WAS the moment. Luna MADE the moment, with all that was beautiful and strange about her. 

 

Suddenly, just as Hermione had predicted, lightning struck the chimney just a few feet from them. A tremendous roar of thunder accompanied the screech of the house, sending the roof careening sideways in an awe-inspiring cacophany of sound. The girls began sliding with the roof as it trembled itself off the building. She smelled burning, briefly, over the rain. Thinking quickly, Hermione grabbed Luna and turned as much as she could on the spot, thinking of home and squeezing her eyes shut. 

 

The sound stopped. Hermione opened her eyes and threw her arms around Luna, bursting into tears. Luna clutched her back, patting Hermione's back gently as she calmed down. "It's all right now. We're back. Shhhhh." Hermione sniffed loudly, trying to recover some dignity and stop crying. "No one got hurt, really, right? We're fine. Everything's fine." Somehow Luna was still the calm one despite it being her house struck by lightning.

 

"Wha...What's going to happen to the house now?" Hermione asked.

 

"She'll be fine." Luna reassured her. "She's stood up to worse than a little lightning."

 

"And...and the Leaping Gyrozocks?"

 

"I might've seen one. I wasn't sure, especially with the apparating, but I think so! I'll have to tell father." Luna grinned hopefully at her. Hermione shivered, suddenly realizing that both their clothes were soaking wet. "I'm going to shower and change. Make sure you was your clothes well, they're gotten quite stormy." Luna began walking towards the bathroom, stripping as she went. She seemed quite unconcerned with Hermione seeing her with less clothing than usual, and Hermione couldn't help but stare at the curve of her spine. After Luna was gone, Hermione put her head in her hands, exasperated, relieved, and exhausted.  _What have I gotten myself into_.


	5. Questions and more questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione comes across an old diary of hers (don't worry Lord Voldemort isn't in it we're not starting that whole debacle again)

That night, Hermione took up her quill again and stared at the page. Somehow there was a disconnect...how could the page be so blank while her mind was so full of questions and thoughts and theories and plans? She scribbled in the corner just to break the monotony. The scribble looked kind of like a person, so she kept scribbling, scribbling...it began to take the form of someone with long hair and delicate curves and lovely eyes and...Hermione hurriedly scribbled out her doodle. Maybe scribbling wasn't a good way to start. She glanced up at the bookshelf above her desk and spotted her collection of mismatched old journals. Some had no more than a few pages written in, while others had pages and pages of teenage angst. Curious, she pulled one out. It was bound with blue leather and had a tiny silver lock on it.  _Alohamora_ she whispered, tapping the lock lightly with her wand. She flipped open to a random page, unsure of what era she had rediscovered.

_ Today we had an exam in Charms and there was this one question that I KNEW I knew the answer to but I couldn't remember it at the time and it took me ages to think of it and I'm not even sure what I wrote down I was so stressed about it so I can't even look it up to see if I got it RIGHT! I probably messed up something else since I missed that question too. And just a couple days of days ago I did the same thing. This whole Triwizard Tournament has seriously gotten in the way of my studies, from helping Harry to Viktor's attentions. Seriously, these  _ boys.

Hermione laughed at herself as she recalled back to 4th year. Fortunately she had gotten more confident in her abilities since then, and she worried less about things THAT trivial. Still, it was classic Hermione to the end. She flipped a few more pages and continued reading.

_ Viktor's kissed me a bunch of times since the Yule Ball and its been really informative about this whole kissing thing (it's more self explanatory than I imagined, and yet somehow no book ever quite prepared me for it). On the other hand, he just seems so obsessed. We only just met! How can he like me that much that quickly? I mean kissing him is nice and all (and oh, that lovely Bulgarian accent) but he must be merely infatuated at this point. I wouldn't be surprised if it passes soon. I am very curious what its like to go farther though...I wonder if he'll try something soon? _

Ah, young love. Or whatever it was. Hermione remembered her fling with Viktor with both fondness and a wince. It had certainly been informative, just as she'd written.

_ I don't understand. I'm dating Viktor Krum, one of the most famous seekers in the world, a Triwizard champion, and one of the sweetest boys I know. Sometimes I get so turned on when I'm with him, I forget how to breath. Yet somehow, I can't stop looking at girls. Do I just think appreciate their outfits aesthetically? Do I just appreciate  _ THEM  _aesthetically? Do other girls feel this need to just stare and stare and stare. The other day I saw this girl from Beauxbatons with her hair in the most beautiful delicate waves, and it just curled around her shoulders and bounced when she walked and all I wanted to do was look at it. And then today, I saw a girl stand on her tiptoes to reach something in class and it almost took my breath away. Has anyone else noticed how beautiful girls are? Maybe I just want things I can't have. Maybe I just think I want girls because I'm scared of wanting Viktor and I need any excuse. Maybe I'm a lesbian. I DON'T KNOW. Why is this so difficult? Does everyone have this problem? Do they just block it out and pretend it doesn't exist? Maybe that's what I should do. I should just focus on Viktor and not worry about this whole girl thing. After all, I do love it when he touches me. Maybe it will work out._

Hermione stopped, unable to continue reading. It hadn't worked out, though she had certainly tried for a time. It was hard to date long distance. And somehow, even long after the breakup, she had also never really gotten her questions answered. Life had gotten in the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also fun fact this fic is ending up being really personal and so if anyone else has any experiences like this with bisexuality or pansexuality it would be super cool if you commented about them :) can be anon, I don't mind, I won't bite! unless you're into that. then I probably will.


	6. Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, it's time.

“I want you to cut my hair.” Hermione walked into the kitchen the next morning after a long, sleepless night to find Luna nursing a cup of tea. She stared straight into Luna’s clear blue eyes. “Now.”

 

“Okay.”

 

Hermione had been expecting some sort of argument along the lines of ‘I don’t know how.’ Apparently not. “I want it gone. Up to here.” She pinched a handful of hair about an inch from her scalp.

 

“I’ll get my scissors.” Once again, Hermione was surprised. She had expected Luna to assume that she wanted to use magic, maybe with some new spell. Somehow, Luna had understood. Just as she always did.

 

Luna came back with the scissors and gestured for her to sit in the kitchen chair. Hermione sat up straight, poised and determined.

 

“Bangs?” Luna asked conversationally, as though it were an everyday occurrence to cut off most of your friend’s hair without magic.

 

“Whatever you want.” _Change me_.

 

“Can I get it wet first?”

 

 _You can get me wet first._ Hermione’s thoughts jumped ahead of her. “Sure.” Luna went over to the sink and grabbed the bucket sitting underneath. She filled it with water from the tap, not even bothering with the temperature. She brought the bucket back to Hermione and unceremoniously dumped it over her head. Hermione stiffened as the water hit her, soaking through her shirt to her bra. She held back from any shout of surprise though, remaining stoic.

 

Luna began snipping away at her hair, letting the pieces fall to the floor. She was humming something, half of one song and half of another, meshing them together in a wonderful and discordant way. Her soft hands brushed Hermione’s ears as she made her way through the hair, sending shivers down Hermione’s spine that had nothing to do with her soaked clothes.

 

 _I want her_. Hermione realized as her hair was shed like snakeskin, scratchy and outgrown.

 

“Let’s set it on fire” said Luna, crouching down in front of her and glancing down at the mess on the floor. It was then that Hermione kissed her.

 

The kiss was fierce and surprising, and their lips didn’t quite meet at first. Hermione forgot, briefly, what to do with her mouth; she was too busy processing what she had just done. Miraculously, Luna took it in stride, like she always did even with the strangest of things. She kissed Hermione back gently, switching smoothly from her unsteady crouch to a kneel and taking Hermione’s face in her hands. Hermione leaned into it, her elbows on her thighs. They broke apart, briefly, and Hermione had a brief moment of worry—was that okay? Was Luna just humoring her? But the other girl smiled and pecked her again on the lips before standing up. She had bits of hair stuck to her knees and Hermione hurriedly brushed them off, apologizing and blushing. Luna just grinned and took her hands, kissing each one like a Victorian gentleman and saying, “I was hoping you would do that.” Hermione smiled back, dazed with what had just happened.


	7. You are made of stardust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione has a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: this chapter has the sexytimes in it. if you do not wish to read the sexytimes, this has been your warning. particularly sexytimes between girls.
> 
> also this is my first attempt at writing smut so bear with me I guess?

Hermione spent the next few days hovering between longing and delight. One moment, she would spy Luna's form walking down the hallway from her place on the couch and stop what she was doing to stare shamelessly while the other girl floated past. The next moment, Hermione would be cooking dinner and suddenly feel a pair of arms snake around her waist and lips ghosting against her neck. When she came home from work at the Ministry that Tuesday, she found Luna lounging on the couch, shirtless again. This time she forced herself past her nerves and ended up in a glorious two hour makeout session. If that was seduction it fucking worked. 

Wednesday morning was the dream. She had had girl dreams before--had fallen in love and made love with several faceless, indistinct women over the years. She had even encountered scenarios with friends of hers. None of those dreams could compare in intensity to this one. It happened as she was drifting in and out of sleep, just before her alarm. 

Luna was bathed in hazy sunlight which lit up her hair and skin with a beauty that would drive any artist to tears trying to capture it. Her hands were curled desperately into the wrinkles of the sheets. Hermione was between her legs, her mouth pressed up against the heat where her thighs met, awash in the warmth and intimacy of the moment. Unfortunately, that's all there was--a moment. Hermione tried desperately to fall back asleep and return to the dream but it was impossible, and she ended up being late to work as a result. She was well and truly tangled up in this now. How could she get that amazing feeling back?

Hermione spent the day fantasizing about all the ways she could approach Luna. Should she get her flowers? Chocolates? Just take off her shirt, too? As she was contemplating this, she realized that as well as she knew Luna, she didn't know anything about how to charm her. Or how to charm a girl at all, in fact, unless we're talking a magical charm. That, she could do. Hmmm. Was there anything in Charms class that could help?

That evening, Hermione came home with a plan in mind for seduction. Seduction, yes. Of course she could seduce someone. It was probably easy. Yeah. Hermione sighed deeply at herself. Attraction makes people do crazy things sometimes. Counting herself lucky that Luna was out for a little while, she set to work casting spells. 

A couple hours later, Hermione was just putting the finishing touches on the charms she had placed when the door opened and Luna herself stepped in. Hermione's stomach dropped. What if she didn't like it? What if this was too much, too soon? Or not enough? Or...

"Hey, Hermione! What are you up to?"

Hermione swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. She definitely looked caught in the act, her wand still out. "Well..." This was no good. She might have gotten top marks in Charms but that didn't mean people always LIKED her charms. She looked at Luna, her hair mussed from the wind and her eyes grey and alive as ever. She couldn't turn back now. "Incipiens!"

The spell took effect, and the room dimmed. In between the two girls, a delicate crescent moon rose, bathing the room in soft light. The sky began filling with twinkling stars, as believable as the great hall had been. "I made something for you" Hermione said, and waved her wand again. The moon began to get smaller, and soon the scene changed as the lights morphed into galaxies, floating in midair around them. Hermione gazed at Luna, smiling, as Luna stared in childlike wonder at the incredible colors of the universe. She put her hand out and touched a galaxy awash in purples and blues, her hand passing through it as though it were a ghost. 

"This is beautiful" Luna said in awe. 

"I wanted...I mean, I thought that since your name was Luna, like the moon...and that...well I mean...I think you're really beautiful too, and..."

Luna cut Hermione off with a kiss that shook the sky. Hermione's eyes shut to the beauty of the room and she focused on Luna's lips, pushing and pressing and perfect. Hermione moaned and wrapped her arms around Luna, pulling her tight and feeling her respond eagerly. She parted her lips just as Luna did, and she giggled briefly as Luna's tongue quested out to meet her own. Their mouths danced together as they dared one another further and further. Luna changed her angle and began sucking on Hermione's lip, a sensation which sent a spike of lust through her like nothing else. Determined to return the favor, Hermione snaked her hand to Luna's stomach and slowly slid her fingers along the line where the shirt stopped. Too light to tickle, her fingertips instead coaxed a shudder from Luna, and Hermione elaborated by sliding up Luna's shirt. Luna gasped and, suddenly impatient, dragged her own shirt off and then went for Hermione's. They rushed to get undressed, so much that they both had trouble with the button on Hermione's jeans and ended up giggling breathlessly before just dragging them down without bothering. Hermione leaned forward so that their foreheads touched while Luna reached her arms around to undo Hermione's bra. Deprived of bra-removal privileges (Luna didn't tend to wear them), Hermione instead sank to her knees and began tugging down Luna's light blue panties. She dragged her own off, too, tossing both the side, and then stood up.

She looked at Luna, naked as when she came into the world, her bones standing out from her skin like scaffolding. Hermione wondered if she was breakable, even touchable. She paused, and Luna closed the gap for her; they clashed strong as horses, and Luna's bones were more weapons than weaknesses. Luna dug her bitten nails into Hermione's back as their lips met, vicious and wild. They fell back into the focused haze of lust. Hermione grabbed a handful of the blonde's impossibly soft hair and she responded by raking her hand through the freshly cut locks. They grinned through the kiss, breathless.

Hermione's other hand moved again to her waist, feeling the delicate curve before following it up gently to her breast. Luna's breath caught in her throat and she paused before kissing even harder. Taking this as her cue, Hermione cupped it and began to tease. She had never touched a girl like this, but she knew what she liked, and she experimented with pressure and sharpness until Luna began to be driven absolutely mad. She pushed back, needy and impatient. Eventually, she broke the kiss and began sucking on Hermione's neck, nipping and licking one delicate spot until the girl moaned in surprise and pleasure. It was her turn to be teased. Luna's eyes were alight with mischief, and she traced one hand down Hermione's stomach to her thighs and began to circle. She gasped, spreading her legs and meeting her eyes with an expression that hopefully conveyed take me now. Luna giggled and indulged her, cupping her hand between Hermione's legs and pushing fingers towards her core. She began with gentle strokes and then worked faster and faster, accompanied by gasps and moans. Feeling unstable, Hermione dragged her back to the wall and leaned against it while Luna slid her hand through the soaking wet folds beneath. She began in earnest now, her fingers inching further and further inside with every thrust. Both their legs began to shake, and Hermione clutched Luna's shoulders for support as she threw her head back. A few more thrusts and she was shuddering around her hand, gasping with a truly fantastic orgasm. 

Hermione sank to the floor, breathless and nearly delirious, with the galaxies from before drifting around unperturbed. Luna looked down at her, one hand supporting her on the wall and the other in her mouth, tasting. She had a blissful expression on her face, eyes closed, yet for all her efforts she had not yet finished, so Hermione gathered her strength and pushed herself to her feet. She grabbed the hand against the wall and guided her to the chair nearby. Luna sat and immediately Hermione set about recreating her dream. 

Hermione kneeled in front of her and touched her knees, raising her eyebrow in question. Luna nodded and Hermione luxuriously spread her legs open. She began to pepper kisses up the insides of her thighs, first near the knee then gradually higher and higher. Finally, she reached her clit and placed the gentlest of kisses on it. She jumped, then gazed wide-eyed and spread her legs further, welcoming her to continue. Hermione decided right then to go all in and lick one long line along her folds. She shuddered and pushed forward, and the girl on her knees began to worm her tongue inside, tasting and enjoying. Luna's eyes closed and her head went back in the chair while her waist slid forward, beckoning. Hermione wrapped her mouth around her mound and sucked lightly on her clit, earning a gasp and a sigh. She continued to alternate between licking, thrusting, and sucking, trying to find the perfect rhythm. Luna hooked her legs over Hermione's shoulders, her ankles pulling in, and Hermione responded by adding fingers to the mix. She slid first one, then two fingers deep inside her. Luna was already loosened and slick from the tongue and her own wetness, and Hermione began thrusting my fingers in and out just as she loved to do to herself. Luna rocked back against her, crying out desperately as Hermione pushed as hard as she could with her tongue. This brought her over the brink and Hermione felt her inner walls clenching, squeezing her fingers with each pulse.  
“Holy…” Luna said languidly, her bones seeming to have given up on keeping her upright. Grinning, Hermione wiped her mouth on her arm and then leaned forward to share a slow, indulgent kiss while the universe drifted endlessly above them.


	8. Finally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to writing

Several weeks later, Hermione sat once again at her writing desk. She had just spent the last hour scribbling her thoughts down onto the page. Far from her previous writing, she had described herself in nineteen years still together with Luna. Rather than predictable domesticity, they had been adventuring in Morocco looking for magical creatures. Hermione smiled to herself. This, finally, was what she hoped for from the future--not what others hoped for.

"'Mione?" Luna called from the doorway. Hermione turned to look and was met with a brief, sweet kiss. She grinned at Luna.

"What's up?"

"Just making breakfast as usual. Want to join me?" She winked, and Hermione could tell that helping with breakfast would also involve flirting and giggling and probably burning the toast. Excellent.

"Sure! Just let me finish this up." Hermione looked back down at the page and thought for a moment before adding the last sentence-- _All Was Well_.

**Author's Note:**

> Characters, places, etc. belong to J. K. Rowling, not me. I'm just writing about them.


End file.
